


Livin' in the Gray (not for long)

by theinksplotch



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Mike Wheeler, Boys Kissing, Byeler - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Will Byers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mike doesnt know how to handle his gay thoughts yeet, They're 15, Will Byers Needs a Hug, byler, mike's POV, soft boys kissing, they're soft as heck ya'll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-18 00:16:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15473253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinksplotch/pseuds/theinksplotch
Summary: If God created everything the way he did for a reason, he must've been pulling some kind of sick prank when he made me, Mike Wheeler often thinks.Why else would Mike's soulmate be another boy?(That one au where everything is black and white until you touch your soulmate)





	1. Sunsets

 

_Soulmate._

The word alone was enough to make Mike Wheeler want to cover his ears and hum one of his sister’s nursery rhymes just so he wouldn't have to hear it anymore. It was like listening to a friggin' broken record, _re-re-repeating_ itself over and over! _In a world of black and white, the touch of a person's soulmate was the only thing that could bring color to it, **yada yada yada**._ Mike knew the story, _everybody_ knew the story. It was all anybody his age ever talked about, especially considering the time of year— _Autumn._ Hawkins High always conducted the Soulmate Test in the Fall, when the town was covered in a blanket of freshly fallen leaves and the air smelled like pumpkins and chimney smoke.

Now, the Soulmate Test was something every school in America conducted. It was sort of like a bench mark test, only for love, Mike liked to think. The school would pull students out of class in groups and ask each person individually to identify a bunch of colors. If you got them all right, that meant you knew who your soulmate was. Good for you—your name is crossed off a list and sent to the government, or the schoolboard or wherever, Mike guessed. If you didn't, better luck next year, kid. You'd think it was impossible to know which colors from which. How would you know what red looked like—or blue, or pink or green or yellow—if you never seen it in color before? Well after you've been touched by your soulmate, you just...know. Some kind of deep human intuition, is what the teachers always said. Suddenly, you'll know green from blue from orange as easily as you know your own name and it will be the most beautiful experience of your life _blah blah blah_... 

Then at the end of it all there was this big school dance, for all the kids with soulmates to prance around looking into eachother's eyes like  _total_  dweebs. Dustin was going—much to Mike's annoyance, only he thought _Mike_ was the annoying one. Dustin always said he talked about soulmates the way Jan talked about Marsha in The Brady Bunch— _soulmate, soulmate, soulmate._

Ugh, _soulmates..._

It sounded perfect, right? A match made in heaven, man and woman perfect for each other in every way. A happy life full of color and love. _Adam and Eve_.

Not quite.

"Michael?"

Mike looked up from where his hands lay in his lap, cold fingers playing absentmindedly with a loose string hanging off the inner seam of his jeans. He was sitting in the nurse's office at Hawkins High School, the nervous _tap tap tap_  from the rubber-soled toe of his Converse high-top against the linoleum tiles bouncing off the barren walls like an echo in a cave. One of the windows on the other side of the room had been pushed open, filtering in crisp Autumn air from the world outside that flushed Mike's cheeks and sent chills down his spine. The school nurse was peering down at him expectantly through cheap, bedazzled cat-eye glasses _. Nurse Syd_  was her name. She'd worked at Hawkins High since forever, probably since Mike's parents attended. She smelled like cigarettes and old lady perfume.

Mike sucked in a shallow breath, trying his best to breathe through his mouth—he hated the smell of the nurse's office, like vomit and cleaning chemicals (and cigarettes and old lady perfume).

"Uh...what was the question again?" he asked nervously, knowing fully well what Nurse Syd had just asked him. It was always the same question, every year. It had never bothered him before, but now...

"I asked if you could identify this color, hon," the woman held up a shiny paper card, the kind they gave kids in kindergarten to learn site words and numbers and all that. Mike knew the right answer was on the other side,  the color's name. She pursed her lips, sticky with bright _red_ lipstick.

Yeah, Mike could " _identify"_ the color, every color. Around him, the Nurse's Office only consisted of three—the stoic white tiles that lined the floor beneath Mike's sneakers, the chipping mustard yellow wallpaper around them, and the muted gray upholstery of the worn out chair he was currently sitting on. The card the nurse held was a light shade of pink, like the sunsets on warm days. Mike had taken a certain liking to those kinds of shades, pastel yellows and perriwinkle blues. Soft colors—

Soft like squishy cheeks and slender fingers and pretty hazel eyes that turned green in the sun.

Kaleidoscope eyes.

Mike shook his head slightly, like that would rid his brain of the distracting thoughts that ran through it practically _24/7_.

 _Concentrate, Wheeler,_ he told himself. _The sooner you answer this question, the sooner you get outta here._

The sooner Hawkins High would stay the _hell_ out of his business.

"Michael?" Syd asked, gesturing to the card once again.

_Well?_

_Can you see the colors, Mike Wheeler?_

"No," he lied, shaking his head vigorously. "It...It just looks gray to me, s-sorry," he avoided her gaze, suddenly interested in that loose string on his jeans once again. The nurse tilted her head, "Oh, don't be sorry, hon. You'll find her one 'a these days."

_Her._

"Right," Mike mumbled.  

Syd hummed, scribbling something onto a clipboard with a sparkly pink pen. "Thanks, sweets. You can go on back to class now."

Mike let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in and stood up, back stiff and palms suddenly sweaty despite the cold draft in the room. He walked towards the door, feeling more like a robot than a boy. _One foot in front of the other, breathe in, breathe out._

Something compelled him to stop, hand poised just above the cool metal handle—curiosity, probably. He spun around. "Um, Nurse Syd?"

The old woman looked up from her clipboard. "Hm?"

"Did you...?" Mike cleared his throat. "Did you ever find your soulmate?"

Syd's smile was sad, and Mike suddenly regretted not leaving quietly.

" 'fraid not, hon. Maybe if I'd travled more than a foot past the Hawkins county line..."

"Oh."

"Oh, but don't go worrying about things like that," she said, smiling kindly. She pulled a cigarette out from behind her ear. "You're young—there's plenty of time for you to find your special girl, and you'll find her alright. I can _feel_ it."

Mike supposed that was meant to make him feel better.

It didn't.

He left the school nurse to light her cigerette, feeling even more anxious than before. He shuffled past the line of students waiting outside her door—probably the rest of the W last names, maybe some X, Y's, and Z's if there were any. That meant they were finishing up the Soulmate Tests. The dance was set for the end of the week—Friday night. 4 days left and this will all be over, he thinks.

 _You'll find her someday,_ she said.

No, he didn't think he would.

_Soulmate, soulmate, soulmate._

Because there was a lot of people like Nurse Syd—people who never found their one true person, doomed to a life of black and white, **_yada yada yada..._**

But Mike Wheeler was not one of those people.

He knew exactly who his soulmate was.

He just wished he didn't.


	2. Sunflowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil back story. The Party being cute and dorky. Also Mike is so in love - more at 11.

 

 

Will Byers showed up late to Mike's 6th period Geometry class on a rainy day.

Mike only remembered it was raining because of the boy's eyes. He'd been gazing out the window, counting the droplets as they rolled down the glass from the outside - _24...25...26..._ \- Mrs. Wilkins never cared about paying attention in class, so long as you passed the tests. Mike had always liked the rain - it didn't lie like everything else did. Rain was gray, plain, undeceiving. Mike didn't look at it and know he wasn't seeing the real thing, colors hidden behind a sea of gray and gloom. Rain was simple, Mike liked it.

He wasn't sure what had caused him to look away from the window that day - he never bothered to pay attention to who was coming in and out of class. It just felt...foreign almost, they way the door opened timidly, squeaking on its old metal hinges, the soft, squelching footsteps making their way into the room, hesitant almost. Dark eyes momentarily shifted from the gloomy world outside to the front of the class, where a nervous looking boy stood, shoulders soaked from the rain and what looked like a class schedule clutched in his hand.

The new kid. He wore clothes that seemed almost too big for him, the neck of his _Sex Pistols_  T-shirt stretched out and the knees of his jeans worn. He had a baby face - squishy cheeks and a slender nose.

And his eyes - stormy like the sky above. _Undeceiving._

 _Beautiful,_  Mike remembered thinking. It caught him off guard, that thought, sent his mind reeling - sent him wondering just where the hell it had come from. 

And then, from the front of the classroom, those stormy gray eyes had shifted to meet his. 

He remembered something strange washing over him then, crumpling under the boy's soft silver gaze - kinda like the moment of silence just after a movie ends. That half a second right after the outro music fades away, just before the credits begin to roll, and you have to blink back into reality, even...even if you dont really want to. That's what it felt like, staring back into those eyes - like calm - only it wasn't calm, because it sent Mike's heart pounding, blood rushing to his face. 

Point blank - it freaked him _the fuck_ out.

Mike made a vow to avoid those eyes and the boy they belonged to, that day. 

He'd been doing a pretty good job too - pretending that he didn't spend most of his time thinking about curved lips, and stormy eyes that always seemed to catch him staring from across the cafeteria during lunch. He kept his distance, and everything was fine.

Until it wasn't. Until Will Byers was on the floor in front of him, just next to the bike racks in front of Hawkins High.

 _"Shit, are you alright?"_ He stuck his hand out for the other boy to grab.

_"Yeah, I think I just tripped over a rock...oh..."_

Mike had always assumed that when he found his soulmate, the color would come in all at once, like he'd blink and then - bam.

It was actually quite the opposite. They seeped in before his eyes, chasing away the black and the gray like thick syrup running down pancakes.

That's when Mike realized Will Byers's eyes weren't gray.

They were green (so green) and Mike couldn't seem to look anywhere else. They'd deceived him, lied to him - those eyes, but Mike couldn't bring himself to give a damn. 

 _God, he's amazing_ , he remembered thinking, Will's hand still warm in his.

That was the moment Mike Wheeler realized that someone Upstairs had fucked him over.

A _boy_. His soulmate was a boy! Was that even _allowed?_

 _"I...I think I hear my mom calling me_!" he lied, ducking away from the boy. He'd sprinted all the way home that day, didn't even bother to pull his bike out of the bike rack. He just... _ran_ , ran until his limbs ached and his lungs hurt, until the hot tears trickling down his cheeks dried against the wind. He didn't stop until he was in his room, eyes shut tight, like he could turn everything back to black and white if he tried hard enough, tune out the colors that suddenly just seemed _too loud_ for him. This wasn't how it was supposed to go - his soulmate was supposed to be a _girl, goddamnit!_ There must've been some kind of mistake.

You're _the mistake_ , something deep inside whispered.

_You're broken._

And maybe he was, but that didn't stop the butterflies from letting loose in his stomach the next day when Will Byers showed up at his door, looking rather cute in a big orange hoodie, nose and cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

He didn't talk about what happened, didn't stare up at Mike like some love-sick dweeb. He just...brought Mike his forgotten bike and asked him if he wanted to help him build a fort out in the woods behind his house with some plywood he found, green eyes shining almost as bright as the smile on his face. By that time, Mike was pretty sure his soulmate thing was one-sided, _midstakemistakemistake_. He didn't know that could happen, but he guessed it had.

 _Great_. 

So Mike dealt with it. He pushed everything down and became Will's friend. They finished their fort, rightfully named _Castle Byers_  and eventually, Mike invited the kid to D&D sessions with the Party. Slowly but surely, Will Byers became their resident Wizard, a fully fledged member of Mike's tiny group of geeks. He joked around with El and Dustin, teased Lucas about his hopelessly dorky crush on the girl with the red hair from his 5th period, and fit himself into their group like a missing puzzle piece - all the while _Mike_ pretended he didn't want to kiss the little beauty mark just above the softness of the smaller boy's mouth, pretended he didn't wonder what it would feel to run his fingers through that dorky bowl-cut of his, _pretended_  he wasn't absolutely dying inside at the thought of Will Byers finding his true soulmate one day, and everything was fine, great. 

_Great, perfect._

_Not._  

" _Psst!_ Mike _!"_

Will Byers sat in the seat just above him in Mrs. Wilkins's 6th period math class. He wasn't a new student anymore, hadn't been for a couple of months - he was a fully fledged Hawkins High Survivor, now, just like the rest of 'em. The boy was twisted around in his chair, thin fingers resting just on the edge of Mike's desk, tapping idly. Mike could see the beginnings of a drawing etched into the pale skin of his hand, the ink smudged and fading - he wondered what it was.

"How was the Soulmate test?" Will asked after Mike met his eyes. He was wearing yellow today - a worn white _Journey_ T-shirt layered over a soft looking flannel the color of a sunflower patch. Mike suddenly wanted an excuse to reach out and touch, wondering if it felt as soft as it looked, _wondering if Will felt as soft as he looked._

"You know," Mike whispered back, rolling his eyes. "Same as every year."

"Don't sweat it, Mike. You'll find her someday," Will tapped his desk lightly, his trademark _Supportive Will Byers Grin_ painted on his lips like a work of art.

Mike wished people would stop telling him that. 

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice drowned out by the shrill ring of the school bell. _School's out_. He shoved his books in his bag and filed out of the classroom and into the hallway flooded with students, Will hot on his trail. 

Walking through the Hawkins High hallway was a lot like walking into oncoming traffic, Mike thinks. Hectic, loud, _dangerous_ \- bump into the wrong asshole, and you're toast. It was eat or be eaten at _HHS_ , and Mike and his friends were the perfect recipe to a whole-hearted meal. 

"So, have you got the campaign all planned for tomorrow?" Will asked, weaving around a student or two to fall into step with Mike. He kept close to him, the backs of their hands brushed as they walked, Mike had the urge to reach out and intertwine their fingers - he didn't ( _mistakemistakemis-_ ). 

"'Course," He replied, shrugging. "Its a good one, too. Just wait 'til you see the shit I'm gonna throw at you guys," he grinned wickedly, bumping against his friend playfully. 

"Did I hear somethin' about a campaign, Wheeler?" someone called, coming up on his left. Dustin shoved a number 2 pencil into his jeans pocket, elbowing his way past a couple of annoyed looking girls to get to them. "Care to give us a little sneak peak? You know - so we're prepared."

"Nope," Mike said, grinning at Dustin's groan. "You're just gonna have to hold out until tomorrow. You got the snacks?"

"Uh-huh. You guys said bbq chips, right?" 

"Sour cream and onion," he and Will said in unison. "We agreed on _sour cream and onion_ this time, Dustin," Mike sighed. They maneuvered through the group of students streaming through the hallway, Dustin waving over to El - she pushed through kids like they weren't there and joined them, hooking arms playfully with Will.

Jane Hopper had been one of Mike's best friends since grade school, the small girl catching his eye almost immediately when she walked into Mrs. Miller's third grade class brandishing a limited edition _X-Men Vs. Juggernaut_ lunch box. She'd gotten her nickname the way any kid would - doing something _extraordinary_. Eleven skittles up her nose and one trip to the emergency room later, _El_ Hopper was born. She always joked that she _swore_ a couple were still lodged up there - that one day she'd sneeze and the last two would shoot right out. El was funny and sweet, and prettier than _any_ girl _Mike_ had ever seen, and sometimes he prayed to God that one day he'd touch her hand with his and she'd see the colors. Because Mike Wheeler really did love Eleven...just not they way he wished he did. She knew him better than anyone though, knew when he was sad, knew how to call him out when he was being a dick - sometimes he even thought she knew about Will, what with the way her eyes always flickered towards his when soulmates were brought up, deep brown and _annoyingly_ all-knowing. Mike thought about telling her sometimes, he knew she'd pull him into a warm hug and coddle him like the mother-hen she was.

But Mike didn't want to be coddled. 

He just wanted to be _normal._

"We did _not vote_ on sour cream and onion," Dustin argued, eyes widening and hands going up in defense. "El, did we, or did we not vote on bbq chips for tomorrow?"

El wrinkled her nose. "Definitely barbeque. There's no way I'm going to sit in that basement while all of you have onion breath," she teased, reaching over to tug playfully at the few stray curls atop Mike's head - she ignored the middle finger pointed in her direction with a cheeky grin, much to Mike's annoyance.  

" _Thank you_ ," Dustin sighed. "I knew I wasn't goin' crazy - hey wait, where's Lucas? We passed his class a while back."  

"Right here," the last member of their Party pushed his way through the dwindling crowd to join them, books piled in his arms. "Had to go to my locker for these stupid textbooks. If I fail that Geo test tomorrow I'm never gonna see the light of day again - Ready for the campaign tomorrow, Wheeler?" 

"Yep," Mike replied. "And it's a good one, too, so if any of you assholes decide to die right in the beginning, I swear I'll - " 

"Watch where you're goin', _Frog-face_ ," Troy appeared out of nowhere, shoving his way through the space in between Mike and Will with enough force to break the group into two. "Don't make me fuckin' _dissect_ you," he spat, Travis snickering behind him. "Yeah, _Frog-face_ , don't make him dissect you" he said - ( _Is there a fuckin' echo in here?_ Mike thinks). They were gone as quick as they had appeared, leaving a collective feeling of annoyance in the now-almost-empty hallway, lingering like a bad smell. 

"Whatever," Mike mumbled with an eyeroll, cheeks hot with embarrassment. He _hated_ when Will saw things like that, _shit_ \- as if he could get any more pathetic, anyways.

The five of them pushed through the front doors at the end of the hallway, immediately caught up in the crisp autumn wind. 

Mike pulled his jacket tighter around himself, taking in the soft gloomy sunlight and the orange and red leaves fluttering past them and the flushed faces of his friends. 

"You know, you don't look like a frog, Mike," Will told him softly as the five of them walked towards the parking lot. "Troy's just being an a-hole." 

" _Yeah,_ I mean, you don't look a _lot_ like a frog, just a little, you know? - _ow!_ El, what the hell was that for?" Dustin cradled his right arm, looking hurt. "I said he didn't look _a lot_ like a frog!"

"Gee, thanks, Dustin," Mike deadpanned. 

"Whatever man - Who cares what the hell Troy says, anyways?" Lucas asked. "He's failing like, _all_ his classes. By the time he graduates high school, he'll be calling your son Frog-face _Jr_ in the lunch line."

Mike cracked a smile at that. 

After a few more cracks at Troy and the promise of a kick-ass D&D campaign, Mike was waving goodbye to the Party and wandering off the bike rack, cool autumn wind in his hair and Will at his side. He unchained his bicycle, frowning when he noticed his was the last one. "You walkin' home today?" he asked.

Will shook his head. "Johnathan's picking me up. We're going to the record store," he practically bounced as the words left his mouth, cheeks flushing rather nicely in the light of the afternoon. Will loved music, spent half of is time making mixtapes and drawing in his room to the tune of _The Clash_ or _David Bowie._

"Going to go buy more weird, loud music tapes then, I see?" Mike teased, poking him in the side. 

Will giggled, rolling his eyes. "They're not _weird._ They're different. Some of us listen to more than just _Wham!_ , you know."

"Hey - George Michael sings like an angel!"

Will snorted, and _God,_ Mike wanted to kiss him _so bad so bad so bad_. "You're funny, Mike Wheeler."

"You're _funny-lookin'_ , Will Byers." 

Another smile, this one softer, sweet - like candy on Halloween night. Will glanced behind him, spotting something familiar in the school parking lot. "Oh- that's Johnathan. See ya tomorrow." 

Mike didn't want him to go. "Yeah," he agreed, suddenly deflated. "Tomorrow."

He turned his back to Will to prop himself on the seat of his bike, only spinning around at the mention of his name. 

"Hey. Mike?"

Will was glowing the afternoon sunlight, eyes alight and inked hands tucked into the deep pockets of his frayed jeans. He scuffed the rubber of his sneaker on the sidewalk beneath him. 

"For the record, I don't know what Troy's talkin' about. _I_ think you're handsome." 

And then he was gone, leaving Mike Wheeler weak in the knees, and warm in the chest. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the 2nd chapter! Uhhh make sure to tell me what you thought and help a shister out and lemme know if anyone was out of character !!
> 
> @ those 5 ppl who commented on the 1st chapter? I love you, ur doing amazing sweeties. 
> 
> validate me on[my tumblr](http://nasally-voice.tumblr.com/) !!!

**Author's Note:**

> HMmm pls comment something if u wanna read more of this cos idk 
> 
> leave me prompts on [my tumblr](http://nasally-voice.tumblr.com/) if you want, I do ask box fics as well
> 
> luv :)


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